


Maybe We'll Find a Brand New Ending

by buckysbestguy



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Nightmares, both these boys just deserve some love and happiness ok, i never know how to tag these things, um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 03:03:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15654429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckysbestguy/pseuds/buckysbestguy
Summary: “Or you could try it my way.” Bucky arched his eyebrow in a question, and Steve answered, “You could move in with me. We could deal with it like we used to deal with everything.”“How’s that?”“Together.”





	Maybe We'll Find a Brand New Ending

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from "Lost Stars" by Adam Levine, which is one of my favorite songs and what I listened to while writing this :)

“Move in with me.”

Steve and Bucky sat together on the couch in Steve’s too-expensive Brooklyn apartment. It cost more than it looked, and Steve felt sure that he should be putting more money into savings, but he couldn’t get himself to live anywhere else. The place felt as close to home as he’d felt this century, especially with Bucky’s head rested against his shoulder and his nose pressed into the stubble on Steve’s neck.

“What?” Bucky lifted his head to look at Steve.

“Move in with me,” Steve repeated.

“That’s a horrible idea,” Bucky replied, letting out a huff of a laugh.

Steve’s eyebrows crinkled in confusion. “Why?”

“Steve. We’ve only been together for like, a month. I’ve never even stayed the night.”

“But we’ve known each other since we were kids. We practically lived together when I was eighteen, so how is this any different?”

“In a lot of ways! For one, I slept on the couch most of the time back then, and there’s no way I’m doing that now.” Bucky grinned and added, “I’m too old.”

“You’re even older than me, and that’s saying something,” Steve teased. Bucky shoved his shoulder but laughed alongside Steve anyway. After a moment, though, Steve’s smile faded out, and he looked down at his hands in his lap, twisting his fingers together. Every interaction with Bucky these days felt like new territory, something so different than the easy comfort they’d had decades ago that Steve didn’t know when to push and when to let things go. Bucky was still his home, but it was like he’d been remodeled, and Steve had to dodge walls he’d forgotten were in new places.

Steve’s hands stilled, his mind made up, and he turned on the couch to face Bucky fully. His eyes raised to look into the soft blue ones across from him, the ones that should have hardened after all he’d seen, and he lifted his hand to brush his thumb across Bucky’s cheekbone. Steve loved touching Bucky, always wanted to be touching Bucky, but they’d been friends for so long that he felt unsure about how to do anything more romantic than a hug. But Bucky leaned into the contact, so Steve left his thumb against his skin and pushed the rest of his fingers to scratch at the hair behind Bucky’s ear.

The corner of Steve’s mouth twitched in a small smile. “Come on, Buck. What’s really holding you back?”

Steve’s hand slid down back into his lap as Bucky looked down and sighed. He had opened his eyes when Steve said his name, but he refused to make eye contact. “I still have nightmares,” he began to explain. “I wake up almost every night, and that’s when I actually go to sleep.” He looked sheepish. “I know I said I’m doing better, and I am, but only during the day. At night, it’s, well, you don’t need to put up with it.”

Bucky chanced a look at Steve, and he didn’t look surprised. “I’ve had them, too. I’ll help you.”

“But you shouldn’t have to. I know you’re finally sleeping better, and you don’t need to deal with my stuff. I’ll fix it, and then I can move in when I’m better.”

“Or you could try it my way.” Bucky arched his eyebrow in a question, and Steve answered, “You could move in with me. We could deal with it like we used to deal with everything.”

“How’s that?”

“Together.”

Steve could see Bucky already beginning to shake his head, so he tried again. “Just stay tonight, then. Nothing permanent.” Steve squeezed Bucky’s hand as he said, “Give it a shot, Buck. I know what I can handle.”

Bucky let out a breathy laugh. “In your head, what you can handle is everything. You don’t have to do this for me, pal.”

“Bucky, I want to. Just let me,” Steve said, and Bucky never knew how to say no when Steve looked this earnest.

“God, you’re stubborn. Fine.” Steve smiled one of his rare smiles that lifted both sides of his mouth, and Bucky nearly stopped feeling guilty for caving. “I have one rule, though. If I hurt you, I’m leaving.”

Steve stood up and reached his hand out to Bucky. “Okay. Let’s find you some pajamas.” Bucky placed his right hand in Steve’s and allowed Steve to pull him up off of the couch. The two walked, hand in hand, into Steve’s bedroom, Bucky trailing slightly behind. Steve rifled through his dresser and tried to find something comfortable but without paint stains, and settled on a plain tee with only a couple of stripes of blue across the front. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, it’s good.” Bucky grabbed the hem of the shirt he’d been wearing and pulled it over his head, and then took the fresh one from Steve’s hand.

Steve watched as his shirt slid down over Bucky’s broad chest, then stomach, and then the hair right above his jeans that Steve loved to bury his nose in. “I never thought I’d get to see you in my clothes.”

Bucky smirked at Steve, now just taller than him. “No kidding. I always did like the way my hand-me-downs would hang off you, though.”

“Don’t remind me.” A faint pink tinge ghosted over Steve’s cheeks. “Do you want pants?”

“Nah, I’m good in my boxers.” Bucky unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down off his legs while Steve took off his own shirt and grabbed a pair of grey sweatpants from one of his drawers. 

“Do you want tea or anything?” Steve asked, stepping into the pants and pulling them up to his hips. 

Bucky shook his head. “I’m okay. I’m hoping you’ve got a spare toothbrush, though.”

Steve nodded, and the two boys headed to the bathroom. It was a simple thing, but as they brushed their teeth, Steve felt a warmth in his chest. He watched his shoulder brush against Bucky’s in the mirror, and it looked right, doing something so mundane together.

They pattered back to the bedroom, and Bucky scratched the back of his head. “So, uh, do you care which side?” 

“Nah, whatever you want,” Steve answered. Bucky pulled back the neatly-made sheets and climbed onto the middle of the bed, where Steve could lie on either side of him. He laid on his left side, and Steve wanted to tell him he didn’t need to trap his metal arm, that he wasn’t scared, but decided to keep quiet. He settled into the bed behind Bucky and pressed his bare chest as close to Bucky’s back as he could get, then draped his right arm around Bucky’s shoulders, not hugging his chest, just resting.

“Is this okay?” Steve asked, his voice barely more than a whisper in Bucky’s ear.

Bucky closed his eyes and felt Steve, alongside his back, across his chest, against his unclothed legs, and let out a breath. “Yeah, Steve. This is good.”

Steve pressed a few kisses to Bucky’s neck, behind his ear, on his shoulder. “Thanks for staying.”

“Sap.”

“Punk.”

Steve waited until Bucky had drifted to sleep before allowing himself to do the same. He’d watched Bucky fall asleep before, but he’d never felt it, felt the way Bucky’s breathing slowed down and the pressure dropped out of his shoulders. He liked Bucky this way – relaxed, calm. Unafraid.

*****************************

The sun was still hours from rising when Steve woke to a heavy weight crashing onto his torso. He shoved hard upward, trying to throw it off of his body, but the thing wouldn’t budge. He pushed again at what he realized was a shoulder, but the thing, person, pushed down even harder.

“Don’t move,” the person whispered, urgent.

Steve knew the voice at once. He remembered where he was, who was with him, but it did nothing to calm his panic. “Wake up, Buck. Bucky, it’s me. It’s Steve. I’m not going to hurt you.” 

Steve tried to move out from under Bucky, well aware that in Bucky’s eyes right now, Steve could be any one of his enemies, but Bucky held him still. He braced for a punch or two, but instead, Bucky moved to cover Steve more completely, aligning their bodies from forehead to foot.

“Stay still, Steve,” Bucky said, and Steve froze. He tried to assess the situation, question after question running through his mind. Was Bucky awake? Did he know where they were? Was someone here? But Bucky’s eyes were still pressed shut, and Steve hadn’t heard anyone enter the apartment. Steve was part of Bucky’s dream, then, but that didn’t explain why Steve didn’t have so much as a broken nose.

The answer dawned on him as he took into account Bucky’s position above him. He could feel the man trembling, as though in terrified anticipation. “Bucky,” Steve said softly. “I’m safe. We both are.” Not wanting to scare Bucky awake, he went for a gentler gesture and intertwined the fingers of his left hand in Bucky’s shaking right. He squeezed once, whispering, “I’m safe, Buck. I’m safe.”

Bucky’s eyes shot open and caught onto Steve’s. “Steve? Where –” Bucky started.

“You’re in my apartment. You’re safe.”

Bucky looked around at the headboard and the pillows that had been pushed to the side of the bed, and almost calmed down for a moment before looking sharply back at Steve. “Shit, did I hurt you? I knew this would happen.” Bucky flitted his eyes across Steve’s face, checking for bruises, and then pushed back to sit across Steve’s thighs and scour his chest and arms.

Steve could see the worry rising again in Bucky’s eyes and shook his head quickly. “I’m fine, Buck. I promise. You weren’t trying to hurt me.”

Bucky’s scan of Steve’s unmarked skin seemed to lead him to the same conclusion, and he slumped forward and rested his cheek against Steve’s chest, allowing Steve to tuck his chin into Bucky’s hair.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” Bucky mumbled. “Said I would.” 

“And I said I’d help you.” Steve’s hand brushed against Bucky’s side as he brought it around to the other man’s back and began to trace pressured lines up and down between his shoulder blades. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Bucky said, “but I’m supposed to anyway, right?”

“So I’ve been told. But I won’t make you.” Steve felt pretty sure he already knew, in any case.

Bucky sighed, the breath warm on Steve’s skin. “Back in ‘44. Remember the base where you lost your shield like five minutes after we got there?” Steve nodded. “They were raining down on us, and you wouldn’t stop and hide, you just kept running.” Bucky turned his face further into Steve’s chest, trying to muffle his words. “I was so scared.”

Steve closed his eyes. He’d been right. After all Bucky had seen, all he’d been forced to do, his nightmares still featured the 1940s. “I’m safe, Buck. Promise.”

“I know.”

They laid like that long enough for Steve to wonder if Bucky had fallen asleep, his breathing now slow and even, but a glance downward showed Bucky’s eyes still wide open. The clock read three-thirty, but Steve never wanted to sleep after bad dreams, either, and so he moved to sit up and said, “Come on, Buck. Let’s go make breakfast.”

In the kitchen, Steve started melting butter for scrambled eggs and watched Bucky untwist the tie on the bread to put some in the toaster, and despite everything, despite the falling and the freezing and the fighting, they’d somehow ended up here. The two of them, in Brooklyn, like this, and it just felt _right_.

“Listen, Buck,” Steve started. “I’m not gonna try and convince you to move in here. But if you’re staying away because you think you’re doing me a favor, you should know that this is what I want. Falling asleep with you, making breakfast with you, being there for you. If this isn’t what you want, tell me. But every minute I get with you is more than I ever thought I’d get, and I don’t intend to take that for granted.”

“Sounds an awful lot like you’re trying to convince me to move in, Steve.” Bucky tried to smirk, but his eyes were too fond to pull it off. 

“Yeah, well, look at you. Can you blame a guy?”

“Guess not,” Bucky said, and he took a step toward Steve so they were standing face to face, inches apart. He bit his lip. “It’s not gonna be easy, you know.”

“I don’t care.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, Buck. I’m sure.”

“Okay, then. Yes.”

“Yes?” Steve looked confused, and then disbelieving.

“Yes,” Bucky replied, and he grasped the back of Steve’s neck to pull him in for the kind of kiss they’d shared hundreds of times by now but would never feel ordinary. Steve felt it in his toes, in his fingertips that had moved to rest on Bucky’s hips, in his mind that was ignoring the pop of the toaster and the sizzle of the stovetop to focus on the way Bucky felt and smelled and tasted.

Bucky pulled away with a few pecks to Steve’s lips. “I’ve got a condition, though.”

Steve worried for a moment, but Bucky’s eyes were teasing. “What’s that?”

Bucky looked down at his paint-striped shirt. “I’m not bringing over any pajamas. I’ll only wear yours.”

Steve laughed, and so did Bucky, and the sound rang through the kitchen. Their kitchen. 

“I think I can live with that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!! Comments are, of course, greatly appreciated. Also, I'm on tumblr at [buckysbestguy](https://buckysbestguy.tumblr.com), where I'm always accepting prompts :)


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